


Juno Doesn't Pine (and Other Fun Lies a Detective Can Tell Himself).

by onetiredboy



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pining, a non-canonical meet between the first and second time juno met peter, juno being snarky, peter being flirty, some blood, the ol' 'patch up your crush and try not to notice how close your faces are' trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: A.K.A a friend asked me to do a fic where a character gets into a fight and has to be patched up by their crush and the tension gets oh-so-high between them... and I recently finished season one so I couldn't think of anyone better than my favourite detective.( This is a non-canon scene ! )





	Juno Doesn't Pine (and Other Fun Lies a Detective Can Tell Himself).

It was stupid. It shouldn’t have happened.

I’d just been a second too slow, hadn’t noticed the knife until it was too late. It’s what you get for starting a fight in a back alley when you’re drunk.

More to the point, it’s what you get for staring too long at a man who was clearly with his girlfriend.

It wasn’t my fault the man had had a deep, bubbling laugh and a fox’s smile. Reminded me of an old friend.

“Oh you’re back, good—_Mistah Steel!_”

I closed the door shut behind me and tried to walk faster than Rita’s voice would carry. She intercepted me halfway to my office door.

“Mistah Steel what happened! You’re bleeding! Ooh it looks bad Mistah Steel, I’ll get the first aid kit – this is just like that time on Martian Housewives when Katie got into an argument with Th’kala over her—”

“Rita, if you want me dead that’s fine, but have a heart and do it with a blaster rather than talk to me until I bleed to death.”

“_Mistah Steel!_”

“I’ve got a kit in my office,” I pushed past her.

“Oh Mistah Steel I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Rita called after me, standing on her tip toes, “I don’t know how to say this Mistah Steel but while you were out—”

“What did you do _this time, _Rita?” I snarled, and opened my door.

Then I stopped moving. Fast.

“I would’ve thought you’d treat your secretaries with a little more respect, Detective,” Peter said. “Or is it only me you’re so charming around?”

That smile. I hated it. The way it sunk into my gut and twisted. I turned to Rita, my face hot.

“Oh Mistah Steel please don’t start yellin—”

“Don’t _start_? How the hell did you let him get in here? I pay you good creds for you to—what—let criminals walk straight through my front door?!”

“Mistah Steel you just don’t understand!”

“Now, Juno,” Peter stood up from my desk and walked over slowly, “I won’t have you talking to such a lovely woman like that.”

Rita dissolved into giggling. I turned to Peter and glared at him.

“Don’t you talk to her at all.”

“You’d rather I’d turn my charm on you?”

“I—”

I fell silent and set my jaw, clenching my fists. Peter smiled smugly at me and then—his eyes must have caught the glint of blood on my face because the smile disappeared.

“Juno, you’re hurt.”

“Nothing I can’t fix on my own, Nureyev.”

“Ridiculous. Where do you keep your kits?”

“Right next to the fucks I don’t give. Now get out of my office.”

“I don’t think that’s very likely, detective, do you?”

I stared at him. He stared at me. Then I stopped staring at him because the blood loss made me stumble forwards.

He caught me. Of course he did.

“Juno! Now’s hardly the time to be falling into my arms, don’t you think? Plenty of time for that _after _we get you fixed up.”

“Shut your hole before I give you a new one, Nureyev.”

“Not quite what I’m into, but I’ll try anything once, detective.”

I ran out of spare blood to argue back, so I let Peter guide me back to my office chair and sit me down in it. His hands were strong. He had the kind of hands that could really manhandle a guy if he begged for it. Asked. If he asked for it, I mean.

“Now, no snarky answers this time. You’re running out of puff. Where are your kits?”

“The safe under my desk. You still have the key?”

The panic in his voice sounded good on him. “If I’d known I was taking away your access to your Medi-Kits, Juno, I never would’ve stolen it.”

“What did you think you were going to take from me? Millions of creds? Take a look around, Nureyev. I’m not exactly running a million-cred business. Those kits are the most expensive thing I own.”

“It was more an act of performance than driven by the intent to steal from you,” Peter muttered as he got to his knees, slotting the key to my safe into the lock.

“Sweet of you. I could’ve bled out on this chair with your name on my lips.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Be careful, Nureyev, you almost sounded like you cared about me for a second there.”

“I do care about you,” Peter stood up, placing the kit on my table. “I was serious about my offer, Juno. A life away from Mars, together.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

“Only the prettiest.”

Fuck, he was good. I hated it when people could keep up with my comments. Stopped me from being able to pretend I was any more put together than the other idiots in the room.

“How did this happen to you?” Peter asked, pressing a button on the Medi-Kit. It hissed open, “You didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

“No, I walked into a wall,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m a Private Eye, Nureyev. Getting into fights is what I get paid to do.”

“You don’t have a case at the moment.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I _do_, Juno. A master thief always keeps an eye on his mark, after all.”

“Oh, so I’m your mark now? Go ahead, make my day,” I spread my arms out, “The most expensive thing you’re going to find on me is a half-eaten sandwich and ten tonnes of emotional baggage.”

Peter smiled at me, like it was cute. I remembered his words all of a sudden – _You’re very handsome like this. Standing up to the big mean world and laughing. _

Fuck, as if I hadn’t thought about those words enough, now I had to read them in his eyes every time he looked at me.

“A mark doesn’t just have to be someone you’re going to steal from, detective.”

“Murder, huh? For once I’m actually grateful. Do me a favour and make it look like a sad accident. It’ll be more in character that way.”

“Mark just means target, Juno. You’ve caught my eye. Stolen my heart, even. Maybe. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind if I keep my eye on you.”

“I’m getting lost in the metaphor. Have I caught your eye or are you giving it to me for safekeeping?” I shifted in my seat and groaned, “And are you going to be any slower with the medical attention? Or does edgeplay get you off?”

“Can’t say it’s high on my list, no. Stop squirming, detective,” he added, but it wasn’t like it was exactly comfortable for me, having his hands travelling down my shirt.

“You really got to take my clothes off?”

“If you want me to stitch up the nasty gash on your stomach, yes.”

“You probably planted that fight just to get me like this.”

Peter giggled. “I wish I was that clever, detective. Lucky for me, I don’t have to try at all for you to get into trouble.”

I didn’t have a smartarse reply to that. I did have a growing sensation of pins and needles in my fingers. So I shut up and let Peter at the wound.

Damn quick fingers. Fingers like that could get a guy into the pockets of anyone he brushed past on the street. Maybe get him into the pants, too.

I snapped myself out of it. He wasn’t going to start with getting into mine.

“Juno, stay still,” Peter said calmly. His voice was soothing, gentle. For a moment, it almost got to me.

“Yeah? You try keeping still with a man’s fingers half inside you.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. I realised my mistake a moment too late and stuttered over myself for a second. Real smooth, Steel.

“Shut up, Nureyev.”

“I had no idea you thought of me like that, Juno.”

“I said shut up.”

“You’re very handsome when you blush. I’d like to make you do it more often.”

“I’d like to make you be quiet more often.”

“I could suggest a few ways to make that happen.”

His voice was light enough that it didn’t _have _to be an innuendo. But even if it wasn’t, my brain quickly filled in the gaps and I looked away from him, glaring at a spot across the wall.

“Ah, there’s that blush again. It seems I’ve found the right way to talk to you after all.”

“You’re the only man I know who can talk so much while he’s stitching someone up.”

“I’m proud to be your first. Hopefully it’s not the only first I’ll have with you.”

“Jesus Christ, Nureyev, can you lay off for half a moment?”

“Invoking old Earth curses. Interesting. You didn’t strike me as much of an Earth history kind of guy.”

“I’m a lady of many surprises,” I muttered, slumping into the chair.

Peter hummed to himself, evidently pleased, and finished sewing up my stomach. He wiped off the blood with an antiseptic wipe and sprayed it over with a thin film of antimicrobial nanobots. Then he looked up to my face and sighed.

“Oh, Juno… where’d you go to get so beat up like this?”

“You should see the other guy.”

“I’m willing to bet he’s somewhat better off.”

I grumbled a few swear words in his direction. Peter just smiled again, cat-like and unfairly beautiful. He had a thin coat of fuchsia lipstick on. I wondered if it tasted as nice as it looked.

“You’re staring, detective. If you want to kiss me that badly, I suggest you go ahead and do it.”

I looked away from him quickly. Peter sighed. He almost sounded disappointed. I… I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was not a little the same myself.

“Now, leaning down like this is certainly advantageous to patching you up, but it is killing my back. Do you mind if we move to the floor?”

“As long as you don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m scandalised, Juno. You know I’m a gentleman.”

“I know nothing about you, Nureyev.”

“Oh, I’d say you know a few things.”

How his hands felt tugging me closer. How his lips felt against mine. If he brought it up one more time I was going to punch him. Punch him, or…

I tried not to think about what came after the ‘or’.

I lowered myself to be sitting up on the floor and Peter leaned down with me. He sat far enough back on my body – closer to my knees than anywhere exciting – that I trusted he’d keep his word on being a gentleman. But it was close enough.

Peter brushed over the tender skin with a thumb. My eyebrow had been split open by a punch and it had been dripping like warm tears down my face. Peter wiped the blood away, tsking softly. “You’re going to have one hell of a black eye.”

“I’ve _asked_ people to give me worse.”

“Have you, now? I must say Juno, you claim not to know much about me, but I’m learning more about you by the second.”

“What, are you surprised?”

Peter’s smile again, “No. You’ve got too much of a persecution complex not to take some kind of enjoyment out of getting roughed up a little.”

Ouch. I frowned at him. Then I hissed, because frowning widened my gash.

“Oh, Juno. You idiot…” Peter began to sew the skin together on my eyebrow.

He still had that same cologne. It infected me. It smelt like… like having someone warm in the bed beside you. Like soft kisses in early morning light and hot breakfast afterwards.

Wow, Steel. Where on Mars did those thoughts come from?

Peter’s other hand brushed some curls away from my eyebrow. His face was close to mine. I watched him through his glasses. He had dark eyes under thin eyebrows that were furrowed in concentration. His skin was clear, soft-looking. I tried to ignore those fuchsia lips but I got a glimpse of the sharp teeth underneath them. Teeth like that could do a world of damage.

“There…” Peter wiped down my eyebrow again and then dragged his thumb across it, gentle. Trying to cause me as little pain as possible.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him. He looked at me, eyes wide.

A feeling bubbled up in me. I wanted to apologise. He made me do that. Made me want to apologise for anything mean I’d ever said and shower him in nice things instead.

“Juno… I told you. I _care _about you. I know you’d like to think that’s impossible, but regardless of what you think of yourself, you are… a very nice person. I wouldn’t like you to be hurt.”

“Like I’m going to believe that from you.”

Peter sighed. I felt it again. The urge to frame his face and whisper ‘sorry’ against his lips. Then he brushed his hand through my hair and I almost did. Almost.

“Juno…”

I had always hoped that if Peter Nureyev kissed me again, I’d realise it wasn’t that good after all. That the first time I’d been buzzed by drink and attraction and the thrill of the crime and I’d find out that behind it all, really, he was just average.

But Peter Nureyev was anything but average. I should have known that by now.

He kissed me, and I fell into it instantly. His hand on my face, my hand on his stupid fancy shirt collar. And the sounds he could steal out of my throat… let’s just say he’d earned the title of master thief.

His lipstick tasted nice. I wondered what the rest of him would taste like.

Then the door to my office opened.

“Oh Mistah Steel I haven’t heard from you for so long I was thinking you’d—oh.”

I broke from him the moment Rita opened the door, wiping the fuchsia from my lips, but she’d seen.

“What are you doing breaking into my office? How many times have I told you about knocking Rita? Do you even listen when I talk to you?”

Rita broke bright red, “Oh Mistah Steel I had no idea I’m sorry—"

“Just—get out—”

“Right away sir, you enjoy—uh. I’ll go for dinner, Mistah Steel, how does that sound, do you want me to buy you something to eat again?”

“There’s no need for that, Rita,” Peter said. He stood up off of the floor. “I’ll be on my way, I think.”

“Oh no, Agent Glass I wasn’t aware you and Mistah Steel were _friends_, see, that’s all, I’ll give you two your privacy—”

“He’s on his way out,” I said. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to know if he looked upset. It was easier for me to assume that he didn’t.

There was a beat of silence in the room.

“If you… say so, Mistah Steel,” Rita said softly.

“Goodbye, detective.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you the next time you get yourself in need of saving.”

I didn’t hear him leave, but I knew he was gone. The room seemed colder without him.

There was silence a moment longer, but I knew Rita was about to burst. I lay down on the floor and waited for it to come.

Another second. Then:

“Mistah _Steel! _Here I was thinking you didn’t have so much as a heart and here you are making out with the criminal you arrested last month! It’s—It’s—It’s scandalous! It’s too much! It’s—Oh Mistah _Steel _your poor heart must be achin’ from it!”

“That’s enough, Rita.”

“No I mean _really_, I mean—obviously it can’t work out but you can’t help but feel for him anyway! It’s just like this book Frannie gave me once Mistah Steel about a lady cop and the chief of police havin’ an affair only it turns out his wife is the master of the crime! Oh but then the lady cop ends up falling for _her _and oh—they die at the end, of course, I mean, how else is a story like that meant to end—”

“Rita. Really?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Mistah Steel.”

“Just… go get me another one of those triple deck tacos they sell down the road, would you? And a bottle of Iquierian Vodka.”

“Oh I don’t know Mistah Steel, last time you had one of those you was vomiting for a week—”

“Just do it.”

“_Al-_right Mistah Steel but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I heard the door close behind her. I lay there on the floor and closed my eyes. I heard something move. I jerked my head towards the sound, looking desperately for a sharp tooth, a hint of fuchsia.

He wasn’t there, of course.

I lay myself back down and stared at the roof. “Oh, Steel…” I muttered out loud. “What have you let him do to you?”

That’s the way things go in Hyperion City. You let a thief too close and he’ll escape with more of you than you bargained for.

And you’ll be catching glimpses of that missing piece in all the shadows of the town for months after he leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> if you like this, pls leave kudos, read my other works, or send me requests on my tumblr! @onetiredb0y


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